


If that's the way you want it...

by ishippeditovernight (sonofabitch_awesome)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/ishippeditovernight
Summary: Cas has had enough.





	If that's the way you want it...

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't actually watch the ep; I just experience things vicariously these days. Attribute erroneously quoted dialogue as creative license.

"Useless, am I?" Castiel glared at Dean, his ..."friend"'s stinging words still piercing him. "Everything I do is wrong?"

Dean looked away, obviously wanting to stand his ground. But a flush crept up the side of his face, giving away his guilt.

"You may be right."

At that -- and the eerily calm way Castiel spoke, almost conversational -- Dean turned. He seemed equal parts confused and hurt, with the anger still remaining. "Cas, look, I--"

And then as Castiel reached out with two fingers to Dean's forehead, words fell away as swiftly and completely as Dean himself did.

*

Time passed.

*

Dean wasn't sure how much.

*

When he regained consciousness it was pain he registered before anything else. Unimaginable, un-ignorable and carving into his awareness so steadily that he couldn't even register the idea of opening his eyes yet. Sharp, cutting pains, almost like--

No.

No!

Dean opened his eyes and froze in horror.

Yep.

The steel hooks were back. The creepy green nothingness behind, before, above, all around him. The screams in the distance of other tortured souls.

And then Cas appeared in front of him, not quite floating but not standing on anything Dean could see (_a hallucination?_ he wondered). "Hello, Dean," he said, his voice shockingly normal despite the circumstances.

Dean gaped. He opened his mouth to protest, but could think of nothing to say.

Cas crossed his arms. "You claim I'm no good. That all I do is mess up." He uncrossed and held his hands out, indicating their location. "Well, here's the first thing I'm fixing."

Dean swallowed. "You can't possibly mean--"

"Oh, I do." Cas stared evenly. "If I'm so useless, then fine. Get your own ass out of Hell."

He disappeared.

Dean laughed, still in denial. "Okay. Okay! Funny joke. Hilarious, really. Now come on back here and get me."

Nothing.

Screams echoed throughout the acidic space - where, he still had no idea.

"Cas? Come on, now."

The hooks hurt just as much as they had eleven years (and forty years) before.

He looked around, still waiting.

"...Cas?"

**Author's Note:**

> The fic's not serious but now I'm thinking of a James Baldwin quote:
> 
> _People who treat other people as less than human must not be surprised when the bread they have cast onto the waters comes floating back to them, spoiled._


End file.
